Desert Visions
by LadySnape88
Summary: Mycroft was right. John missed the war. Would his new relationship with Sherlock survive his going back? Would he?


"John?"

Coming out of his mind palace, Sherlock swore he had heard John on the stairs. Getting up from his chair, he quickly crossed the room and opened the door to the landing. He had been correct. There stood John, frozen on the staircase holding a letter and a look of shock on his face.

"You're late." Taking in the full picture of his blogger, Sherlock stopped himself and asked, "John, what's the matter?"

Instead of answering immediately, John continued up the stairs and into the flat. Sherlock could sense something was off because the doctor didn't stop to remove his jacket or shoes before going into the kitchen to make tea. _Ah, tea. Makes everything better._

Automatically making a second cup of tea, John brought them into the sitting room where he placed both cups beside their respective chairs. "Sherlock, please sit down."

The fact that Sherlock was unable to read John in this situation put his senses on edge. He didn't like not being able to deduce what doctor was thinking. Ever since John had left Mary after finding out the baby wasn't his and she had lied to him, they had been nothing but open with each other.

It had been nearly a year now and it seemed that had settled into a comfortable relationship. Not many knew about the change in dynamic, but that's how they liked it.

"John, what was – "

"I'm sorry, Sherlock." John cut him off.

Eyes going wide, Sherlock asked, "Whatever for?"

Handing him the letter from earlier, the detective soon realized why John had stood frozen on the stairs for so long.

 _Doctor John H. Watson,_

 _Upon receiving a full bill of health from Dr. Sawyer and mental health evaluation from Dr. Thompson, the RAMC would like to offer you a reinstatement into the 5_ _th_ _Northumberland Fusiliers to continue with your former unit. We would also like to extend a promotion to Major. As you will be taking the position of head surgeon, we expect to see you report to the airfield on 18 March for deployment. Good luck and safe travels. You will be fully briefed upon your arrival in Afghanistan._

 _Congratulations and welcome back,_

 _General Pike, CLF_

Sherlock reread the letter several times. This couldn't be happening. He had just gotten John back. He had to call Mycroft.

John speaking brought him out of his chaotic thoughts, "There's nothing Mycroft can do. This isn't his division… and I'm not entirely sure I don't want to go back."

Sherlock couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was going to lose this man, the man he loved for so long and from afar, to the military again and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

"Do you want to go back?" All the while his brain was running through several scenarios to keep the doctor home and not off in the desert.

"Yes. No. I don't know. Look, Sherlock, this isn't something I have a choice in. They're calling me back into the army. All this publicity must have drawn their attention. I'm needed there." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, Sherlock or himself.

"But you're needed here!" In a rare display of true emotion, Sherlock jumped up from his chair and started pacing around the sitting room of the flat. John could hear him muttering under his breath as the detective put his hand on his head and into those curls that the doctor loved so much. He could almost see the stress pouring off of Sherlock as he started pulling on his own hair.

John quickly stood up and pulled the taller man down on the sofa with him. Pulling Sherlock's hands out of his hair, he placed the dark head of curls on his chest and soothingly stroked it. He needed Sherlock to calm down before he actually hurt himself. When John had returned to Baker Street, he noticed Sherlock had been more open with himself around John and allowed his emotions to be set free when it was just the two of them. Holding Sherlock like this as they cuddled on the couch seemed to work the fastest in calming the detective when he saw a panic attack developing behind those clear blue eyes. All he wanted to do was hold him and never leave the flat again.


End file.
